My buddy C.A. was heading to the local trout stream and called to see if I might want to join him for a hex mission. Being out of time and behind on everything I accepted. It was 8:30 before my toes hit the cool spring creek current and C.A. was already on his beat. The weather was too cool for hex's and the wind was blowing at 8-10 knots which is also a bad omen. I spotted the first bug at 9:00 and by 9:15 I'd already missed two fish. Strange, because it was still pretty light and also because I was just bragging to C.A. about how my super secret hex spinner really upped my hooking percentage. By 9:30 I'd missed 5 more fish.
A gulp against the far bank followed by a cast into the dim early night, the kind of cast that always feel "perfect" but in reality probably ends up 5 feet left or short half of the time, connected with a 16" brown.
One for eight...but still a hero.
I flexed my ears against the wind straining to hear the telltale gulp of a big brown...nothing, nothing, nothing and on like that for a few minutes until "GULP". It was downstream at the tailout of the slow run I was posted on.
Way downstream where I'd never heard or seen a decent brown rise during the hex hatch. A quick scurry through the chin high grass, way downstream to where the "GULP" came again. Heron like wading into the shallow tailout, hunched over to peer into the black shadow of the far bank followed by a stab in the dark, prodding the black with rod, line and fly. The first cast felt perfect though it ended up one of the 5 feet short (or right) variety. The second, slightly longer-slightly to the left, cast drifted only a few feet before the jog and stoop, peering, straining and prodding were validated by 18 inches of hex gulping brown trout.
Two for eight and still the hero...until C.A. reported that his went 22...
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